These last two years, it's been very, very good to be Sarah Palin. From the weaker half of a weak ticket to a million-dollar book deal and a reported hundred-grand per speech, Sarah Palin has become a global phenomenon. Love her or hate her, everyone knows Sarah Palin's name. Which also happens to be a huge pain if you have Sarah Palin's name.

Of course it's never good to suddenly share a celebrity birthright. Just ask the guy from Office Space. Or the guy in Sacramento who got kicked off Facebook for four months because his name is Justin Bieber. Indeed, the age of The Social Network means that the woman on Facebook named Marck Zuckerberg gets complaints about Internet privacy, that Glen Beck has some new friends, and, certainly, that the Sarah Palins of the world are not exactly enjoying this election cycle.

The name is not a common one, but there are a handful of Sarah Palins in the United States. About 12 are Facebook members. The database on Classmates.com lists 30 — including the one who graduated Wasilla's Burchell High School in 1982. But per capita, the coincidence appears far more common in England, where a handful of the dozens of Sarah Palins I contacted were also far more willing to talk about it.

"If I had a pound for every time I have heard someone crack a joke about my name, I would be the proud owner of a Bugatti Veyron," says one Palin from Brighton. "My name is actually not the same as hers either — I am a Sara, not a Sarah."

Other Palins recounted, perhaps thanks to the former Alaska governor's own predilection for Facebook, receiving friend requests from Mama Grizzly groupies, including positive messages of thanks for inspiring them to beat cancer. But of course there is hate mail: "you should never have been born," "you bitch," and "you've insulted every single black American," for starters.

"In everyday life in England it's fine, the odd comment — everyone thinks they're the first," says a Sarah Palin from outside of Manchester. "But on Facebook it's just a right pain in the rear end."

Doesn't matter if your profile picture looks nothing like Sarah Palin — the woman from Brighton's photo was "me drunk, hanging out a shopping trolley — because there's no escaping it. There's just no escaping the association. A Palin from West Derby said she was stunned that so many "intelligent-looking people" sent her messages: "I mean, I am almost three decades younger than her. I look nothing like her."

Not that she doesn't occasionally respond: "I think a good 90 percent of her fan base must be blind or illiterate — they don't catch on too quickly."

But Facebook itself does. Another Sarah Palin from Manchester was forced to spend days convincing site administrators to let her use her own name. Ultimately she e-mailed a scan of her driver's license. "They didn't grasp that I'm English, live in England, and she is of no consequence to anyone over here," she huffs. The good news? One guy was so polite about it that she and Palin have been messaging ever since.

None of the British Sarah Palins were interested in changing their names. And neither is Glen Beck, from Fort Bragg, California, who happily told tales of women asking to meet him, and a hotel that left an extravagant fruit and cheese basket (complete with complimentary wine) in his room. But there are plenty of downsides. "I would kinda like to see him share his wealth as compensation for having to answer for him," he says. "Somehow I don't think that will ever happen."